


I'll be Right Here Now

by gAAmAtsU16



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi Seijuurou & Kuroko Tetsuya Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Kuroko no Basuke Extra Game, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gAAmAtsU16/pseuds/gAAmAtsU16
Summary: “Mayuzumi-san,” that was definitely a growl. It sent shivers up his goddamn spine. “I don’t care whatever you are doing or whatever pinch you are in, if Akashi-kun needs you you go straight to him.”Never, period, had anyone scared the shit out of Mayuzumi Chihiro (not even Akashi in his worst days) than the low base of Kuroko Tetsuya’s voice.





	I'll be Right Here Now

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write some Akashi angst and him leaning on MiraGen for emotional support. AkaHiro fluff is here too though milder so, Enjoy! =)

_Send me your hotel address and room. I shall see you by 9._

Akashi stared at the message on his phone. It was short, yes, but the fact that it was _short_ was how Akashi understood the hidden implication of the phrases.

He types what’s asked of him and sends it back to the intended recipient without delay. He doesn’t expect a reply. _I shall see you by 9_ means I shall see you by 9.

The red-haired looks up and on the bedside drawer. The digital clock reads fifteen minutes after ten in the morning. There are still hours before the planned meeting. For one named Akashi Seijuro, he was a busy youth.

However, the revenge match against America’s Jabbawockeez had just been concluded two days ago. The JBA (Japanese Basketball Association) bestowed the athlete’s mandatory respite, Rakuzan seconding that notion. This left the normally industrious prodigy with an empty schedule.

 _What to do?_ Akashi thought, fingers rubbing at the keypads on his phone. He actually has something in mind but is debating whether to let the impulse win or not. It succeeds unfortunately, so he dials the contact seared into memorization.

The caller picks up on the second ring, “ _What?_ ” and Akashi immediately regrets his decision.

“I presume now is a bad time, Mayuzumi-san?” Akashi makes his voice sound apologetic and hopes the receiver gets it.

“… _Akashi?_ ” He hears a soft ‘Shit’ and deduced Mayuzumi hadn’t looked at the caller ID when he picked up meaning he was preoccupied with something. _“I’m sorry. I was…distracted.”_ His point exactly.

“I can tell. Bad time?” Akashi repeats. He’s ready to drop the call if Mayuzumi says so.

There was a grunt on the other line. “ _Just had a shitty morning._ ”

Akashi waits for an elaboration. When none came, he speaks again, “I am sorry then. Shall I hang up?”

“ _No_.” An abrupt protest followed by a low mumble. “ _It’s fine. Lemme hear your voice. It helps me calm down._ ”

Akashi smiled.

Mayuzumi could be pretty endearing if he wanted to. “I see. I’ll keep going then.” He lies back down on the bed. “How’s that essay project going along?” He hears a mutter and a series of profanities. “Ah, so it is what ruined your morning then.”

“ _Akashi, this is not a laughing matter._ ” Mayuzumi whined when Akashi’s chuckles got a little loud.

“I know, I’m sorry. Takanori-sensei’s giving you a hard time again?”

“ _The dick’s out to torment me, I’m sure of that now. Since that time I corrected his analysis on that fuckin term paper he’s been a fucking dragon who’s always spitting fire at my face.”_

“Let me meet him. I am sure we could compromise.”

“ _I’d rather you ankle break the bastard_.”

“Mayuzumi-san.”

“ _Sorry_.” But the former Rakuzan regular didn’t sound sorry at all. “ _So, why’d you call? You miss me already?”_

Akashi was glad this was a conversation over a phone because blushing was something he still couldn’t control. He replies with nonchalance though. “And if I do?”

Mayuzumi chuckles and it does something to Akashi’s heart rate. “ _You can just go find a picture of me and kiss it thoroughly in my stead_."

“How queer.”

“ _It’s a kink_.”

“Lewd.”

Mayuzumi laughs this time. _“I miss you too, Sei.”_

Akashi sighs with affection. He wishes they have visuals, that way he could see the aloof tender smile the older man’s surely wearing right now.

“Me too.” Then he blurts out his reason for calling. “My Father is coming over.” There was silence. “Mayuzumi-san?” He knows he’s still there, the line’s still operating.

“ _Shit. For real? What does he want?”_

“I do not know.” And that’s a given.

There’s little Akashi Seijuro doesn’t know. He’s father’s unpredictable mind so happens to belong to those rarities. Whatever’s in store behind ‘I shall see you by 9’, he hopes is not calamitous.

Another curse. “ _He doesn’t know about us yet, right?_ ”

“Yes.” Gods forbid what Akashi Sekijin would do when he does. He’s an asset to his father and he takes great pride in him so Akashi’s really careful with not crossing the proud head of the Akashi clan.

 _“Will you be all right_?”

“I…will be.”

“ _Sei_.” The uncertainty was picked up by the white-haired.

“To be frank, I am apprehensive. I could always read my father easily before but now I’m drawing a line.” He inhales heavily and exhales forcefully. “Let us hope it won’t be that a disastrous reunion.”

“ _Yeah_.” Mayuzumi trails off, “ _I wish I’m there with you. To help you through the shit and all.”_

Akashi’s heart aches at his words. When he wanted Mayuzumi Chihiro, the long distance relationship was part of the package. “Don’t worry. I can handle it. It is what I’m good at. You focus on grinding some A’s on that essay of yours.”

Mayuzumi sounded as if he wanted to rebuff him. “ _Okay, fine. Takanori’s a jerk anyway. Just…call me, okay? Or, if I’ll get hung up send me a message.”_

“I will.”

“ _Take care, Sei._ ”

“You too, Mayuzumi-san.”

 _Beep_. Akashi stared at the call log. This was how his relationship with Mayuzumi’s reduced to; unprecedented phone calls and late-night video chats. He’s perplexed that he’d worried the university student with his silly family drama. Mayuzumi may seem the unenthusiastic between them but he’s put in more effort than Akashi had. He’s the one tethering between maintaining equilibrium between his hectic college life and fulfilling his duties as the frigid-as-untouched-ice boyfriend to Rakuzan’s golden boy. He even pushed some deadlines for various assignments so he could be present during the Vorpal Swords VS Jabbawockeez match. The heated love-making session he and Akashi shared that same night was little consolation when the stress and pressure returns to Mayuzumi full-swing.

So with cold dread settling at the pit of Akashi’s stomach, he waits for the imminent clock to reach at nine.

* * *

 

He knows the moment his father makes his entrance things are going to go downhill.

Akashi Sekijin was a proud man who exudes respect and confidence.

The same vanity shared between father and son was rooted from their elite family’s success as one of the most influential and renowned business tycoons.

The man’s cold demeanor’s unchanged. They didn’t really have such a role-model father-and-son relationship to begin with. If anything, interaction between them is awkward and stiff.

But the shaky bravado was noticed by Akashi’s expert eyes and he wishes for the night to pass in a blink already.

"Good evening chichiue,” Akashi opts for formal greetings as tradition. “How was your flight?”

“Quaint.” His father answered and Akashi inwardly swallowed.

So not only was there a poorly hidden self-control but also one word replies. Shit, Akashi thought alarmingly.

“I see. What brings you to Tokyo then, chichiue?” Akashi goes direct to the point. The sooner this ends the better.

Sekijin sits himself on the only available chair so Akashi’s left to rest on the edge of his bed. “I came to see how you fare. I’ve heard of the game you’ve recently won and decide to extend my congratulations.”

Akashi surprised himself by answering quickly. “Thank you, chichiue. It was a team effort however, not a singular victory for me. I have friends whose desire to win begets mine.”

“Mmm.” Sekijin gave him a blank expression. Akashi pondered if there’s something wrong with what he’d stated. “I’ll cut to the chase then, Seijuro,” Akashi shivered at the mention of his first name, “There’s something I need confirmed.”

“Chichiue?” The first drip of sweat slid down his neck.

Sekijin pulls out his phone and as he swipes for whatever it is he wants to show his son, the anxiety’s enough to chill Akashi’s blood. “One of my employees was in town prior to my arrival to oversee some small preparations. He’s taken a strangely amusing photograph and sent it to my secretary who gave it to me.” He raises the gadget, eyes locked stoically at Akashi. “I beg to disagree this is you in the picture and is just another youth who has the same hair color.”

The photo was a bit blurred, obviously hastily taken. Still it showed two boys, one startlingly short with bright red hair and one who’s tall and had stormy grey hair, their backs to the cameraman. It would’ve been an ordinary picture if not for the tall boy looping an arm around said short boy’s waist and the angle of their heads clearly showing them kissing. Akashi would’ve denied the accusation in a heartbeat, except the red-haired on photo was wearing VP jersey 4. And Akashi could identify the place— It was at the back gate of Tokyo stadium.

“Seijuro.” His father’s voice anchored him back to the harsh reality. Anger was slowly paving way to his steady red eyes.

“I…” _Deny_ , his brain frantically screamed. But there was something fighting that command. And Akashi knows; if he denies this, he’s negating Mayuzumi and their feelings towards each other. And that’s something that Akashi could never ever do. He takes a deep breath, the greatest he’d had before matching the steely gaze of Akashi Sekijin. “It’s me.”

The bomb drops. “Come again?”

Akashi bit back a whimper, swallows all terror. “I said it is me, chichiue.”

A pause. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Seijuro.” The voice was low, close to a growl now.

“And I am going to say it again.” Akashi points at the gadget, at the screen. “The boy in the photograph is me.”

The silence was agonizing.

Threatening.

 _Dangerous_.

Akashi somehow wished his father would get violent because it’ll be easier to deal than this stillness that poached all the oxygen in the room. Seikijin stood gruffly, shoulders shaking and mouth quivering enough to break skin, he shuffles to the door. Akashi tries to stop him.

“Chichiue—“ SLAP!

There was burning so intense on his cheek like being doused by fire. He tasted copper and realized he’d cut his lips at the process.

“Don’t.Call.Me.That.” Sekijin stressed out every word. It’ll feel like a stain in his system if he didn’t; irremovable and permanent. “Why have you done this? To be involved with…” he sneers, unable to rein in the apathy, “…a _boy_. And in public. You know you are well-known!” He gritted his teeth.

Akashi harnesses the dizziness an stands his ground. “That boy is Mayuzumi Chihiro. He’s taking Literature in the University of Tokyo and was my senpai in Rakuzan. He is loyal, trustworthy, compassionate and earnest— all the things you are not.” He catches his father’s eyes, locks it in place and says with conviction. “And I am going out with him.”

Sekijin raises his palm again and Akashi braces himself for the sharp impact. It didn’t come. Instead, his father composes himself and with venom-laced voice that could bore holes on the hotel floor, he spats.

"You have shamed me, Seijuro. You and your… _nefarious_ inclinations. It’s scandalous. I will have none of it. I will not have a son who has such disreputable ties and no concord to public image.” He said no more and strolls out of the room without a second glance.

He stares at the spot where his father once occupied. There’s a horrible, gaping sensation at the pit of his stomach, making his heart heavy and sapping all strength left in him. He collapses on the floor, gasping. He was pretty sure he’d just been disowned.

Akashi fared poorly with emotional restrictions; he realized this since Rakuzan’s defeat to Seirin. He’d break and crumble and fall. Seriously? All those achievements and glory and triumphs amassed throughout the years from his hard work and perseverance forgotten in a blink for this one brazen truth. All because, he loved a man.

It’s so easy to be ignored in the world so you’ve gotta put yourself up front if you want to be counted. But Akashi can be in the back and still be the center of it all.

Akashi’s gasps turned for worse and the least he wanted right now was to hyperventilate. He seizes at his chest and pads for his phone. He dialed Mayuzumi’s number. It rang and rang until the voicemail reaches him. Please no. He repeats the endeavor six, seven times and still the voice that he’d turned to at his worst didn’t appear.

“Mayuzumi-san…” the tears were more than he can handle. “…where are you?”

Silence answered him until he could no longer take it. He wants to get out of there, wants to have company so bad he’d settle for anyone.

He scrolls through his contact list and the glum amplifies when the first two numbers he dialed were unattended. He’s hungry for companionship that he blindly selects another contact, one of the least used, and graciously this one answers.

“ _Ahh, this is a surprise, Akashicchi.”_ The voice—sunny and cheerful and fervent, was what he really needs now.

“Kise…” a pause, a question if he’s all right which he ignores, “Are you…available right now?”

* * *

 

“I didn’t expect you’re bringing someone.” Akashi was sitting at a vacant table at the corner of a ramen shop just a few blocks from his hotel. He looks up when his visitor strides in accompanied.

“Sorry Akashicchi, it’s just he insisted to come along. I hope you don’t mind some bad company?” Kise says then gets slapped behind the head. “Ow, that hurts, Aominecchi!”

“I do not mind. I welcome the company in fact.” He means it. Better than…than being alone with his thoughts.

Akashi scoots to make room for the two. “How are you, Aomine?”

Aomine was about to reply when he notices what Kise had missed. “Is that a cut?” Akashi instinctively raises a hand to cover his swollen lip but his wrist was seized. “It is a cut. Shit. Akashi, were you mobbed?” the Touo genius does a rapid body scan on him.

“Akashicchi,” the glee vanishes from Kise’s voice. It’s replaced by concern. “Is that why you called? Were you attacked?”

“I-I am fine, don’t worry.” His voice is strained. No way were these two going to buy that.

“No shit, Akashi. That looks fresh.” Aomine caught the tenseness, moving to stand back up. “Where? Where’s the bastard that hit you? I swear those shits will—“

“I was not attacked.” Akashi half yells. He’s not going to lose his cool here, not with…”Please, sit back down. I promise nothing bad happened to me.”

Aomine looked like he wanted to protest but he grunted and sat back down.

“Akashicchi, are you sure? Is there something you want to talk about? Why did you call us here?” Kise probes, leaning closer to glimpse at any change of reaction from Akashi’s face.

“I just want a night with friends. What is so unusual about that?” Akashi insists lamely.

Aomine scoffs, not buying his hastily constructed excuse. “It’s unusual you’d call for a get together pass curfew, with a bruised lip and being defensive beyond character.”

Akashi winces. He didn’t know Aomine could be this scrutinizing.

Kise looked contemplative for once. He palms Akashi’s hand on the table which he himself wasn’t aware had been trembling. “Akashicchi, it’s all right. Whatever…you wanna say, we’ll listen. Friends listen to understand not reply.”

Akashi had almost bought into his lie of just wanting this to be a random respite from his recent torment but Kise and Aomine were pulling the strings. And there was so little resistance in him before the entire sequence detaches.

“I…” He starts, curling on himself to make himself smaller. This chagrin was exhausting. Akashi wants it out of his circulation. “My father came to my hotel a few minutes ago.” He sees the ire in the pair. They knew the strict foundation from which Akashi’s childhood had been built and they disliked it. “A staff of his photographed me and Mayuzumi-san at the conclusion of the match with Jabbawockeez outside the stadium, snogging in public. It was…in constitution to the celebratory moment. I didn’t find anything erroneous in the act. It was brief but the picture has been sent to my father and he…did not react accordingly.”

Where his anguish was palpable, the anger springing from his co-Kiseki was tangible.

It was Aomine who put two-and-two together. “And he hit you?"

Akashi didn’t answer. _Couldn’t_. He feels small and delicate and just wants to curl in a corner and cry.

Kise this time asks, like calm before a storm. “Akashicchi, did he hit you?”

Friends listen to understand not reply.

Akashi allows himself to trust Kise’s words. He nods.

The table shook from where Aomine had slammed his fists on the surface. “Fucker!”

“Aominecchi!” Kise reprimanded his partner but didn’t appease his wrath. He was mirroring the same murderous intent in his golden orbs; a very un-Kise like behaviour. “Where’s your father right now?” His voice was frosty.

“He left after…verbally discrediting me. He is probably on the way back to the airport or something.”

“Fucker’s a coward. No offense. But he shouldn’t have hit you just ‘coz you’re dating a dude.” Aomine snarled. Something vibrated from his chest pocket. He pulls his phone out. “It’s Tetsu.” Aomine lurks to the side to answer the phantom sixth man’s call, leaving Akashi and Kise alone.

A hand rubs soothing circles on his back. “Did you call, Mayuzumicchi?” Akashi shakes his head. “You have to, Akashicchi. He needs to know.”

“I-I have burdened him enough by getting him to agree to be with me. I do not want my personal issues to bother him.”

The ministrations on his back stops. “You think you’ve forced Mayuzumicchi to be in a relationship with you?”

Akashi blinks at the question but didn’t contradict it. “I am assertive and always get what I want, Kise. Chihiro’s included in that wants.” He didn’t mean that. But the state he’s in, he’ll lash at anything to stoke the flames of his self-hate.

“Akashicchi,” Kise’s voice was like a lullaby; cajoling and sweet, “Mayuzumicchi loves you. Even I could see that. He’s going out with you because he wants to. And he’s doing all these stuff for you of his own accord. Don’t think of yourself that way.” He bites his lips, on the verge of crying. He will if Akashi won’t. “You…you don’t deserve what happened to you. Your father should—he’s a douche. He doesn’t understand you. You’re better off without him.”

Akashi didn’t know what to believe anymore. His father…had been cruel, that’s a given. To judge Akashi by this one wrongdoing and discarding all the rest of his fruits of labour was heartless, merciless. And it wasn’t even improper for Akashi. No. Because being with Mayuzumi was so natural and right. No force in the universe could falsify that. His father is wrong, dead wrong. Akashi looks down at his clenched hands. So why was he so severely affected?

Aomine returns to their table. “Tetsu said he’ll be here in ten minutes. He’s picking up Satsuki on the station along the way. I told him what happened, Akashi.”

Aomine extends a silent apology for disclosing classified info without Akashi’s consent but Akashi merely nods lifelessly.

“Midorima and Murasakibara’s informed as well and they’ll be here in a short while too.” The fire in his eyes dins but only a little. It was still scorching when he sits back down. “Are you going to order? Because damn as hell I’m not hungry anymore.”

* * *

 

Mayuzumi Chihiro had a reputation of being calm as the ocean. On occasions where his patience is tested to the limits however, he can be a tsunami.

With a loud grunt, he throws the book he’s engrossed five hours of his time reading and understanding until endurance snaps and irritation splashes his senses that he’s not going to come up with a decent ten-page essay in less than seven hours. It’s already 11:47 and his laptop screen is blank like freshly pressed laundry. He’s downed his third coffee and sleep was tugging at the recesses of his brain and he would oh so much love to obey if it wasn’t for his damned 7am deadline to that scumbag Takanori.

He’s so focused at the task on hand he’d ignored his phone for the duration of the evening. He wonders if there’s been a message or call from Akashi and, vaguely remembering it was on silent mode, reaches to check.

He’d just unlocked the gadget when an unknown number displays at the screen. The fuck is this?

“Hello?”

“ _Mayuzumi-san. Finally._ ” The voice was anonymous as well. “ _I’ve been calling for quite some time now._ ”

 _My phone’s on silent, you dick._ “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“ _It’s Kuroko_.” A pause from Mayuzumi. “ _Kuroko Tetsuya. Of Seirin_.” The caller expounds.

Mayuzumi’s eyes bulged. He’s the least person he’d expect a call from. “What does the Phanton Sixth Man wants from me? No, wrong question. Do you even know what time is it?”

“ _Less than ten minutes to midnight.”_

Damn, this brat sounds smug. It grinded Mayuzumi’s nerves.

“Listen, kid,” Mayuzumi didn’t really need this right now. “I’m under some really stressful shit here so if you’re just—“

“ _Mayuzumi-san,_ ” that was definitely a growl. It sent shivers up his goddamn spine. “ _I don’t care whatever you are doing or whatever pinch you are in, if Akashi-kun needs you you go straight to him_.”

Never, period, had anyone scared the shit out of Mayuzumi Chihiro (not even Akashi in his worst days) than the low base of Kuroko Tetsuya’s voice.  
Then he registers what Kuroko had said. “What did you just say?” He was sleep-deprived but he was certain his boyfriend’s name was just mentioned. 

“ _Mayuzumi-san_ ,” Kuroko says again, this time milder, _“Akashi-kun’s been visited by his father.”_

 _Shit_. Mayuzumi forgot about that. “ _He’s not in a good shape. He’s_ …” the pause caused Mayuzumi’s heart beat to be erratic, “… _he’s hurt_.”

It was like a slap.

Mayuzumi stands up, grabs his wallet and keys and tugs his coat off the rack. He’s slipping in shoes when he tells the Seirin oddball who’s patiently waiting for him to finish getting ready.

“Where’s Sei right now?”

A sigh of relief. _“With us in a ramen shop. He’s going back with me to my Apartment. We decided its best he’s not to be left alone for the rest of the evening._ ”

Good.

Mayuzumi’s out the door and locking it when he asks. “Who’s ‘we?’” Although he didn’t need to ask. He has an inkling who they’ll be anyway.

“ _The rest of MiraGen_.” Bingo. “ _We’re all here. It’s Momoi-san who convinced Akashi-kun to sleep at my place. He called you but you weren’t answering_.” Motherfucker, Chihiro. He wants to hang himself. “ _He’s subdued for the moment but…talking. What time are you arriving?”_

“I’ll be at the station in about five minutes enough to catch the last train going there. I’ll be there in half midnight or more.” Mayuzumi’s sprinting on the quiet street towards the subway.

_“I understand. I will send you my address later. I’m on the third floor. Nigou will wait for you by the door.”_

“Okay, thanks. And Kuroko?”

“ _Yes_?”

“Watch over, Sei.” He grips his phone tightly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Somehow he could sense the phantom man’s smile. “ _He’s in good hands, Mayuzumi-san. Keep safe_.” And he hung up.

Mayuzumi’s trip to the station was the quickest in record. He bounds to the door just as it closes for the last trip. He steadies his breathing but his heart rate’s still irregular. He presses his head to the pole, welcoming the cold sensation because he was undeniable heating up.

That bastard of a Sekijin was nothing but bad news and he was right! He should’ve taken the train earlier and accompanied Akashi during their meet up. It was foolish of him to leave his former captain to face the wrath of his father alone, knowing first-hand how delicate Akashi is.

 _Fuck, fuck, FUCK_. Mayuzumi mentally scolds himself. He’s due a term paper and another opinionated lecture from Takanori and perhaps another fucking C on his report card but all those crap’s tossed aside when Akashi’s involved. It was always Akashi first, more than anything else.

As the train lurches in full speed and the night sky swings by the windows, Mayuzumi’s filled with more dread and distress than he’d ever felt when Akashi first breaks down during that Winter Cup match with Seirin.

* * *

 

It stopped falling, the tears. But the dull ache in Akashi’s chest lingers.

The room was well-ventilated but he feels suffocated. The windows were opened, the cool night breeze flowing in like a cold kiss to his flesh, but the cramped feeling didn’t go. He sits by the couch, blanket tucked waist-level and hugs the pillow.

“Akashi-kun?” A door opens and Kuroko enters. He’s holding a tray with a cup of tea and biscuits.

“That’s not necessary, Kuroko.” Akashi protests as his host puts down the items on the table in front of him.

“I know but you haven’t eaten anything since we left. The tea’s mint-flavoured. Murasakibara gave it to me a while ago. He said it’ll help with the insomnia and…other stuff.” Kuroko’s voice softens at the last statement.

Akashi smiles, for his efforts at least. “Thank you.” He takes the cup, brings it to his lips. And it stays there.

The hand that finds his leg startles him. He looks up. Kuroko was bending; eyes turbulent moments ago were now calming.

"It’s all right, Akashi-kun. You’re not a disgrace. You’re not pathetic. You’re…you’re not shameful.” The walls that Akashi forged that tethered and shook under the Kiseki’s benevolent presence crumbled at the mere words that came out of Kuroko’s mouth.

The teal man retrieves the cup that was shaking terribly it might spill. He then takes both of Akashi’s hands. “You mustn’t take what your Father said by heart because they’re not true. You’re incredible, Akashi-kun and amazing and outstanding. You’re strong-willed, determined and passionate. He does not understand that because he doesn’t know you. We do. And he may not be proud of you, but we are.”

The night was filled once again with quiet sobs and grief-stricken tears. Akashi wants it to end, to stop so he cries freely and Kuroko allows him. He sits beside him, as a silent support, like how he’s always been.

There was barking followed by the doorbell ringing on the front door. “Were you expecting someone?” Akashi asks as Kuroko stands to get the door.

“No. You are.” He smiles before vanishing to a corner. Completely hidden from Akashi’s view, he muses what Kuroko means.

He was just wiping the remainder of the tears on his face when a voice cuts through his already fragile concentration.

“Sei.”

Akashi looks up but didn’t have the luxury to confirm if said voice is who he suspected when familiar warmth envelops him in a tight embrace. He has to take a moment to grasp what’s happening.

"M-Mayuzumi…san?” No verbal acknowledgement. But the scent of peppermint and heat like a furnace emitting from the hug perpetuator was enough to affirm that. Akashi asks the first thing that pops to his mind. “Are you aware what time it is?”

Mayuzumi chortles over his shoulder. “Almost 1am if that answers your question, brat.” He didn’t let go though.

No, it did not answer Akashi’s confusion at all. “Why are you here?”

This time, Mayuzumi breaks free but maintains contact by placing hands on Akashi’s waist.

“You’re asking me wrong questions, Sei.” He cups his face, thumbs circles in instinct.

“But…” It’s weird. Akashi isn’t usually this inept. “…you have projects to finish and—the last train’s over, how—“

“Can you leave us?” Mayuzumi says, not to Akashi but to the quiet spectator by the doorway.

"Of course.” Kuroko bows and gives them privacy.

When they hear the soft click of a locked door, Mayuzumi presses a hand at the back of Akashi’s neck, snakes his other to go around his waist and slams his lips to his.

It was welcoming as it was surprising. Akashi instantaneously closes his eyes, allowing the lip lock to deepen by angling his face. He fisted the white shirt underneath Mayuzumi’s brown coat.

The Rakuzan phantom man trails down to nuzzle Akashi’s cheek, then chin then jawline. He languidly kisses the corner of Akashi’ mouth and when he expected a delighted purr he gets a low gasp instead.

He pulls back. “What’s wrong?” The hesitation was not a definition for Akashi Seijuro. He sees him withdraw. “Akashi—“

“It’s nothing. I was just…startled.”

“Hah?” That doesn’t belong to Akashi’s vocabulary as well. The boy knows no such thing as astonishment.

Akashi edged closer to the couch and it allowed a few streaks of the moonlight to lighten his features. He saw his pale cheeks, his crimson eyes, his luscious pink lips and—

"Is that a bruise?” Akashi has fair complexion, smooth like glass and white like pearl. Therefore whatever blemish present is immediately noticed.

“I—“

Akashi’s breath hitched in his throat when Mayuzumi inched closer. His fingers brushes at the receding red patch of torn skin at his upper lip. Akashi has a full view of the rage about to erupt in Mayuzumi’s pale orbs. He beats him to it, a reaction.

He impales Mayuzumi's face in between his palms. “Mayuzumi-san, please. It is not—“

“It’s not?” It was like thunder. His nonchalant partner wraths once in a blue moon. When he does, it’s volcanic. “He did that didn’t he? Don’t lie to me, Sei!”

“Mayuzumi-san…”

“I should’ve been here. I’d beat him until he could no longer walk and all his fuckin bones are mush—“

“Chihiro!”

It was like a tug. Like gravity. Akashi’s spent, emotionally and mentally and that’s worse than being physically exhausted. He lets his head fall on Mayuzumi’s broad shoulders, arms looping over his much larger frame. “It is not wrong.” He whispers.

“Sei?” All anger’s washed away now, replaced with concern and protectiveness.

“It’s not wrong.” Akashi repeats, getting softer by every minute. “This is not wrong.”

Mayuzumi must’ve understood the notion for he rises from his kneeling position and sits opposite Akashi, facing him, chests touching and hands encircling him like a shield, cradling him like a baby.

"It’s not.” He whispers. His has more certitude than Akashi’s. “It’s not, Sei. What I feel for you. What you feel for me. It’s not wrong. They’re not wrong. I love you. And that’s not wrong.”

It’s that one moment where somebody says something small but unadulterated, something finite but authentic and all the pieces fit. Where these things let them know how they fit with each other even if they aren’t sure how to fit with everybody else.

Akashi sighs, finding the closure he seeks since his father abdicated on him. “I know.”

“You need to sound bolder than that.” The hands on his waist tighten, bruising, fitting.

“I know.” Akashi says louder, firmer, stronger this time. Mayuzumi holds his chin with dainty fingers, turns his face to look at him to kiss his lips sweetly. “The world is big, Mayuzumi-san. They will talk.”

“Let them.” Mayuzumi slips his cold fingertips beneath Akashi’s shirt. The young prodigy shivers. His touches feel electric as he traces his back, brushes against his spine. “I want this world small enough for the two of us anyway.”

In his head, Akashi catalogued the man in front of him; his detailed kindness, iron ferocity and fountain of love and he realized, the only thing separating them is air. He reaches for those lips this time.

And Mayuzumi gives it to him, he always has and Akashi had thought himself ridiculous to even waver in his conviction to this man. Kuroko was right. His own father didn’t know the real him.

And this is the real him. The boy who’s wholly and singularly in love with Mayuzumi Chihiro.

And Akashi Seijuro realized, he could be selfish for once.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I make Akashi too OOC? No? Yes?  
> I just want the poor boy to learn to let goooooo


End file.
